


Shelter From The Storm

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-04
Updated: 2001-03-04
Packaged: 2019-05-15 23:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: The staff attempts a pre-emptive strike against a controversial bill.





	1. Shelter From The Storm

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Disclaimer: Damn it, I don't own them. I wish I did, but I don't. The Great  
One (also known as Aaron Sorkin) does. I just like to play God with other  
peoples lives sometimes, but I am receiving no prayers, alms, or any  
monetary...well, stuff, for this. It's purely for enjoyment. And it's a good  
writing exercise. 

Rating: I don't know. There's some adult language and content, but it's not porn  
or a Mortal Kombat thing. 

Archive: Just let me know where. 

Spoilers: Just watch the damn show.

  


Shelter from the Storm

"I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail  
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail  
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn  
'Come in,' she said, 'I'll give you shelter from the storm' 

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there  
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair  
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns  
'Come in,' she said, 'I'll give you shelter from the storm' 

Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost  
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed  
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn  
'Come in,' she said, 'I'll give you shelter from the storm'"

-Bob Dylan

  


"SHIT!  
Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit...."

"You're late, Josh."  
"Yeah. Y'know, Donna, despite your less than favorable evaluation of my  
intelligence, I was aware of that fact." Deputy Chief of Staff Josh Lyman swept  
into his office, opening the door and shrugging out of his overcoat.  
"Two hours late, Josh."  
"The electricity in my apartment went out, Donna."  
"Two hours, Josh."  
He sighed and rounded on her. "How pissed is he?"  
"You've been trying to track down Senator Kramer for most of the morning."  
"Kramer? What the hell would I have to say to Kramer?!"  
Donna shoved a brief in his face. "Well, you'd know exactly what you had to  
say to Kramer if you'd been on time."  
Josh scanned the brief. Donna always wondered if a person's eyes really could  
just up and pop out of a person's head. She almost thought she was going to  
find out.  
"Tell me this is a joke."  
"It's not."  
"Please, Donnatella?"  
"It's not."  
"He can't be serious."  
"He is."  
"He can't possibly have the support for this."  
"He does."  
Josh ran a hand back through his hair. "Oh, this ought to be fun."  
"Tell me about it."  
"This came directly from Leo's office?"  
"Yeah. And, just so you know, Toby doesn't even know about it yet."  
Josh blinked. "How do you know?"  
"Leo told me to tell you."  
"Great, Donna. Did he say why?"  
"No, but we all know it's so you can try to scare the shit out of them first  
before the White House has to commit itself to an all-out legislative brawl."  
Josh nearly choked on the coffee he'd grabbed on his way in.  
"What?" She blinked at him.  
He stared at her for a moment, and then, despite the absolute foul mood he'd  
awakened in, actually smiled. "You know, sometimes I think you're better at  
being Deputy Chief of Staff than I am."  
"Of course I am. I'm a woman."  
"Oh, god. This is going to have you all up and feminist until it's over, isn't  
it?"  
"Damn straight, Joshua. Senator Kramer has no right to try and pull federal  
funding from any old program that at all features abortion counseling. It's  
just not right. Who the hell do these kind of people think they are, trying to  
impose their view of right and wrong on other countries? Since when is  
displaying all the options a crime? Since when do they get to make these  
decisions for other people? For other women? Josh, do you have any idea what  
the general, day-to-day life is like for a woman in a third-world country?"  
Josh stared at her again, only this time he was speaking with almost an  
entirely different person. One he didn't see come out much within the  
boundaries of the White House. Standing before him was Donna Moss, an  
unintentionally self-made, strong-willed, sharp-tongued, extremely intelligent  
woman who had all the men in the West Wing speaking to her and not just at her.   
Not that he didn't already know that. It was simply that she usually didn't  
make a big deal out of the fact that she was a woman. The displays of outright  
feminism usually came from elsewhere.  
He managed to keep his expression serious. "Have you been talking to C.J.  
lately?"  
"Joshua." Okay, that was definitely not a nice expression.  
He sat down behind his desk and held his hands up in a mock-surrender. "Okay,  
Donna. I agree with you. Can you get �"  
"Already did." She set the thicker file she'd been carrying on the desk before  
him.  
He blinked at it, then looked back up at her.  
Donna smiled. "Some of us have actually been here working for two hours."  
He watched her leave the room, shook his head, and set down to work on the  
brief. A sudden thought occurred to him.  
"Donna!"  
She poked her head back through the doorway. "Senator Kramer usually eats  
lunch at O'Leary's."  
"I'm almost afraid to ask how you know that."  
"None of your business."  
"Okay. Thanks."  
"Yep. You have a senior staff at two. Be back in time, and take your cell  
with you."  
"Right. I guess now would not be the best time to ask for a cup of coffee."  
He smiled as she slammed the office door behind her.  
Picking up the phone, he hit the speed dial. "Hey, Sam. Feel like lunch at  
O'Leary's?"

"Did you fix it?"  
"Leo-"  
"Did you fix it?"  
Josh ran a hand through his hair and raised an eyebrow. "I gave him a bit of a  
warning."  
"What kind of warning?" Leo McGarry had his glasses on and was reading over  
his copy of the Kramer brief, along with his copy of the information Donna had  
pulled up.  
"I told him we'd put him in the time-out chair, Leo. What do you think?"  
Leo gave him a look over the top of his glasses. Judging from that expression,  
Josh felt that now would be a good time to watch his runaway tongue. He  
couldn't help it; he was a little frustrated.  
"I'll choose to ignore the tone of that last remark, Josh."  
"I'd be grateful, Leo."  
Leo took off his glasses, set down the brief, and placed his folded hands on  
the desk before him. "How well did he respond to the reputation threat?"  
Josh sighed, running through the conversation at O'Leary's. "He seems  
concerned �"  
"He damn well should be."  
"-but I don't think that'll stop him from putting the bill on the table."  
"Really."  
"I hid Sam in a corner booth at O'Leary's for some covert surveillance while  
Kramer and I had our little chat, and he confirmed the impression I got." Josh  
took a breath. "Kramer's concerned, Leo, but he's not overly concerned."  
Leo paused. "He's got backing."  
Josh nodded.  
"The Senate Majority leader."  
"Who else, Leo?"  
"He's going to tackle abortion? That's not going to get him into the White  
House easily." Leo let his doubts show in the tone of his voice.  
"No, he's certainly not dumb enough to try and tackle Roe vs. Wade, but he can  
gnaw on the edges a bit."  
"Make it look like he's attacking abortion."  
"When he knows he can't. Precisely. And he's smart enough to let someone else  
pick the fight for him."  
"So he can back out unnoticed if we give his goon a bloody nose."  
"Yep. It's a classic move. I know. I've used it."  
Leo stood. "That's what I was afraid of when I got the information this  
morning. By the way, now is not the time to be two hours late for work."  
Josh grimaced. "Yeah, I know. The electricity went out in-"  
"Buy a wind-up alarm clock. I don't want excuses."  
"Yeah."  
"Roosevelt Room, Josh."  
"Yeah."  
"It's going to be a long one. We have lots of planning to do."  
"Yeah."  
Leo paused. "And for the record, I would probably have believed Donna if she  
hadn't been so obviously pissed off."  
"Yeah. Better expect some edginess from C.J., too. This issue hits closer to  
home with them than it does us."  
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."

  


END PART ONE


	2. Shelter From The Storm 2

 

"Josh!"  
The office door slammed. "Wha-"  
"You didn't!"  
Josh lifted his head off his desk, wincing as his neck protested. "Didn't  
what?" He tried to blink away the grogginess.  
Donna threw her hands up in exasperation. "Just once, Joshua! Just once I  
would like to leave the damn office before my workaholic boss, and not have to  
worry about calling said workaholic to make sure he remembers to go home and  
sleep!"  
Josh's head and vision finally managed to clear. He almost wished he were  
still half-asleep. A pissed-off Donnatella Moss was not one of his favorite  
things to be confronted with first thing in the morning. Especially a Saturday  
morning she was supposed to have off. "Did you bring me coffee?"  
"Josh!" Okay, humor wasn't going to work this time. He'd noticed that she'd  
become a little more protective of him after...well, after Newseum. Not that  
she'd ever really been protective so much as...or had she? Wasn't she just  
looking out for her boss?  
They'd never really had the typical/boss assistant relationship, though. It was  
always more like a friendship than anything else...  
And now was not the time for this. "Okay, okay, Donna. For your information,  
I did go home, but I couldn't sleep, so I decided to come in and get some work  
done before the meeting."  
"How early?"  
"Five."  
Donna looked ready to throw something at him, and then her expression changed.   
Like something had just registered. Uh-oh.  
"Josh, why couldn't you sleep?"  
He blinked at her. "No reason," he said, trying to keep his voice light.  
"Josh."  
"No reason, Donna. I just couldn't sleep."  
"Josh."  
He spread his arms out. "I never needed a reason for insomnia before, did I?"  
"Josh."  
He sighed. "Donna-"  
"Joshua." He studied her face for a minute. Damn. There was no way to win  
this. If he gave her too much of a reason for concern, she'd just go to Leo  
again. Besides, he didn't really like worrying Donna. It just seemed  
unavoidable sometimes.  
He stood up, pushing his chair back and went to look out the window. He ran a  
hand back through his hair and took a breath. He might as well tell her.  
"I...had a...nightmare."  
"I know."  
Josh turned around and gave her a puzzled look.  
She shrugged, but didn't break eye contact. "You're right, you've never needed  
a reason for insomnia before, Josh, but you've always told me anyway. It's  
always been 'this brief was bothering me' or 'I couldn't get such-and-such off  
my mind'. Just as conversation."  
He still stared at her. "And because I didn't say immediately why I couldn't  
sleep, you just assumed I had a nightmare?"  
"And I was right, wasn't I?"  
"Donna, that doesn't make sense."  
She took a few steps closer. "It makes perfect sense, Joshua." Her tone was a  
little softer than usual. "I've worked with you for a little over two years  
now. Whether you like it or not, I know you pretty damn well. And I can tell  
when you try to hide something."  
"Then why didn't you just come out and say it?"  
"Because I want you to tell me. I don't want you to think you have to keep  
things from me. I may be your assistant, Josh, but you're the closest thing I  
have to a best friend." Donna's voice nearly cracked at the end of that, and  
she quickly clamped a hand over her mouth.  
It took Josh all of two seconds to round the desk and pull Donna into his arms.   
"Hey, Donna, it's okay. It's okay. Don't cry."  
"I'm not crying," she said, obviously trying to choke back tears.  
He should let go. He shouldn't be holding her this long. But somehow the  
message between his brain and limbs got twisted, and he pulled her even closer.   
"I'm sorry, Donnatella," he whispered. "You weren't actually at Newseum, so I  
guess I just thought you weren't affected by it." God, he really was an ass,  
sometimes. Of course Donna would be affected. She works for the President, and  
was close with nearly all the senior staff. And while he was in the hospital,  
she was always there. He'd just been too wrapped up in his own pain to notice  
hers.  
Donna was the one who pulled away first, and Josh was almost surprised that he  
felt a slight twinge of disappointment. "It's okay," she said, pulling a piece  
of hair behind her ear. "You had enough on your mind." There was little sign  
she'd been crying. "Now, you're going to go home, shower, and change. You  
need to be back here in three hours. I expect you to be clean, shaved, and in a  
different suit than the one you've been wearing for what, the past forty-eight  
hours?"  
"Did you get the memo I asked for?" Josh suppressed and even more surprising  
twinge of disappointment at the reappearance of a down-to-business Donna.  
She raised her eyebrows. "Have I ever once not gotten a memo you asked for?"  
"Point taken."  
"Go home now, Josh."  
"Yeah." Josh ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, I want you to get in  
contact with Lord John Marbury for me."  
"Lord Marbury? Why?"  
"His nephew's a noted anthropologist who's worked in some of these countries  
Kramer wants to cut funding to. I've read a few of his articles in the stuff  
you pulled up for me, but if we could get him to speak for us, it'd be even  
better."  
"Pulling in the guns, Josh? It's that serious?"  
He paused. "Yeah."  
"Oh. No problem." She smirked. "And maybe he's thought of some more royal,  
single men he can introduce me to. Maybe his nephew's cute. And eligible."  
"'Eligible'? You sound like my mother, Donna."  
"I still say you're threatened by his brilliance."  
"I am not threatened by his brilliance, and I need to go home now."  
"Ah, retreating. Very graceful."  
"I'll see you in three hours, Donna."  
"Right."  
She stopped halfway out the office door and turned to face him. "Josh?"  
"Yeah." He shrugged into his suit jacket.  
"You're right. I wasn't at Newseum, but I was at the hospital. I was right  
outside that operating room. I have nightmares, too, Joshua."  
He paused in the midst of taking his coat off the rack. "Donna-"  
"See you in three."

  


"Hey, you should really come see this. CJs biting the head off anything male  
and walking." Sam Seaborn grinned and leaned against the doorjamb to Josh's  
office.  
"And this differs from any other day how?" Josh didn't look up from the pile  
of files on his desk.  
"Point."  
"So what's up, Sam, or did you just stop by to tell me you love me?" Josh  
reached over to take a swig of his coffee.  
"My, aren't we the charmer today?"  
"Sam, it's Monday. And are you going to get to a point soon or do I have to  
beat it out of you?"  
"You know the State dinner on Friday?"  
"The one for the South Africans. Yeah. What's up? Don't tell me they're not  
coming! I was really looking forward to meeting Nelson Mandela."  
Sam shook his head. "No, no, it's not that."  
Josh took another sip of his coffee. "Then what? 'Cause you know, some of us  
have actual work to do, and I'm sure there's something of yours Toby needs to  
add punctuation to."  
"Who are you taking to the dinner?"  
"My cousin Edith."  
"You have a cousin?"  
"Yeah, don't most people? I haven't seen her since we were kids, and it turns  
out she's coming to D.C. to work for the district attorney's office."  
"So you thought you'd bring her to a State dinner to catch up on old times?"  
"No, I thought we'd go out to eat tomorrow night and catch up on old times.   
I'm taking her to the State dinner because I told her about it over the phone  
when she called me, and she told me that before law school she spent a few years  
living with a friend in Cape Town." Josh moved a file to his left, and opened  
another. "Is there anything else I can help you with other than giving out  
information that really is none of your business?"  
"Can I ask Donna?"  
Josh blinked and stared at Sam for a good long while. "Why are you asking me  
this? This isn't prom night and I'm not her father, Sam."  
Sam looked uncomfortable. "I just wondered if you had her working or  
anything."  
"No, actually, she requested off too early for me to force her into working.   
Um, why are you asking Donna?"  
"I thought you said you weren't her father, Josh."  
"Sam."  
"She's smart, funny, and attractive."  
"Sam."  
"No reason, Josh. She's a friend!"  
Josh studied him for a minute. He was definitely uncomfortable about  
something. And it definitely had nothing to do with Donna. At least, it better  
not...Josh shook his head to dispel that last thought.  
He raised his voice. "Donna!"  
Sam looked startled. "Josh-"  
The answering shout came from outside. "What?"  
"Get in here!"  
The door swung open. "Whatever happened to the use of the word 'please'? Oh,  
wait, I forgot. It never was part of that famous SAT-busting vocabulary of  
yours."  
Josh looked at Sam. "I'm not the only one cranky on Mondays." He turned back  
to Donna, who was impatiently tapping her foot. "Sam wants to know if you'll go  
to the State dinner with him on Friday."  
Donna blinked, then turned her head to look at Sam. "Couldn't get a date with  
Ainsley?"  
Sam groaned, and Josh felt a grin sneak onto his face. "Ainsley Hayes?" he  
said, "That's what this is about?"  
Donna was still looking at Sam. "You didn't even ask her, did you?"  
"Now, hang on a minute �"  
She put her hands on her hips and smiled. "You know, Sam, you're never going  
to get anywhere in life if you don't learn to take risks."  
"I take risks! I left a prominent law career and joined the campaign!"  
"I'm not talking professionally, Sam, and you know it. Now you march  
downstairs right now and ask that pretty little Republican to the State dinner."  
"But, Donna-"  
"Besides, Dr. Ethan Marbury already beat you to the chase, so you have no  
choice."  
Josh blinked. Dr. Ethan Marbury? Who the hell was he? Wait a minute...  
"Donna-"  
"Do you think she'll say yes?" Sam interjected.  
"Donna-"  
She promptly ignored him. "Yes, Sam, I think she will. But you'll never know  
if you don't ask, will you?"  
"Donna-"  
"Okay. I'm going to do it." Sam looked at his shoes for a minute. "What if I  
can't do it, Donna?"  
She patted his shoulder. "You can do it. I believe in you. Reach for those  
stars, Sam."  
He smiled at her. "Okay. I'll see you later."  
"Good luck!" Donna smiled as Sam left, striding purposely down the hallway.   
"Can you believe him? I didn't think shyness still existed in men."  
Josh was still staring. "Donna, I said get in contact with Lord Marbury, not  
pick up his nephew!"  
She slowly took up a position in the guest chair, intentionally ignoring him.   
"Of course she'll say yes. Have you seen the way they look at each other? Not  
that either of them realizes it, but I guess that's what makes them so cute."  
"Donnatella!"  
Finally she met him with a cool, calm countenance, marred only slightly by a  
small smirk. "You don't have to yell, Joshua. I'm right here."  
"Explain."  
She blinked with mock innocence. "Explain what?"  
He closed his eyes for a moment. "Donna!" It wasn't exactly roaring, but it  
was pretty close.  
She pointed to his chair. "Sit."  
He sat.  
Donna sat straighter in her chair. "First off, let me begin by saying that  
this really is none of your business."  
"Whatever. And?"  
"Do you want to hear this or are you just hell-bent on pissing me off today?"  
"Sorry," he muttered. He meant it. Kind of.  
"I was able to reach Lord Marbury �personally, actually. Seems he remembers  
me. Anyway, apparently he hates to discuss things over the phone, and when I  
mentioned the thing about his nephew, he insisted I come over to his place at  
once. I mean, what are the chances that both Ethan and his uncle would be in  
town the very same day I try to contact them?"  
"So you went over?"  
"Of course. Josh, you don't refuse an invitation from Lord John Marbury. Not  
if you're female, anyway."  
It really was a strain for him to keep from rolling his eyes. "Okay, so you  
met Dr. Marbury. How is he invited to the State dinner, and why is taking you?"  
"Gee, Josh, you make it all seem so romantic."  
"Donna," he said in a warning tone. Then something occurred to him. "You  
called him Ethan."  
"Huh?"  
"Dr. Marbury. You called him Ethan."  
"Well, I am his date for the dinner, Josh. It'd be kind of awkward if we  
weren't on a first-name basis."  
"Yeah. So..."  
"He was invited."  
"By who?"  
"Nelson Mandela heard that he'd be in town, and requested that he be there."  
"Why?"  
Donna rolled her eyes at him. "Y'know, Josh, you'd think you'd do a little  
research now and then. Ethan Marbury did doctorate work down in South Africa,  
mainly among the Xhosa, which is the tribe Mandela came from."  
"I thought he was Zulu."  
"No, Xhosa."  
"What's the difference?"  
"Oh, just language and culture, Josh, not much." That was definitely  
sarcastic.  
"So why is he taking you, again?"  
Donna smiled. He didn't like that smile. It was entirely too happy. "I think  
he likes me."  
"Oh."  
"Lord Marbury introduced us, and we began talking. I started with your request  
�which, by the way, he'd be happy to do � and we ended up talking about some of  
the work he's done around the world. It was fascinating."  
"Sounds like he likes to talk about himself."  
"Only in response to the questions I asked. And he actually asked me about  
myself. And listened. Do you have any idea how long it's been since a man  
actually listened to me?"  
"I listen to you!" he protested.  
"Right. When you're not shouting."  
"Donna!"  
"Whatever." She stood up. "I have phone calls to make, and you have a senior  
staff in ten minutes."  
"Twenty."  
"Josh, how many time do I have to tell you that your watch sucks?"  
"In five different time zones, yeah, yeah."  
She smiled. He liked that smile better. It was the  
my-boss-is-an-idiot-but-I-like-him-anyway smile.  
Donna shut the door behind her, and Josh began to wonder why exactly he was  
feeling...well, jealous.  
And when exactly he'd begun to catalogue her smiles.  
It was going to be hell to try and concentrate on the Kramer brief.

 


	3. Shelter From The Storm 3

 

"Joshua Lyman!"  
It took Josh a few minutes to realize that the curly-haired, long-legged  
brunette in the blue suit calling his name was...Edith?! Knobby-kneed, plump,  
freckled, wire-mouthed Edith had morphed into...well, someone he would be looking  
at in a different way if she weren't his cousin. "Edith!"  
She grinned as she stepped out of the airport terminal, setting her bag down  
and giving him a huge hug. "Good God, Josh! How the hell long has it been?"  
"Longer than I really care to think about, thank you." He held her at arm's  
length and gave her a smirking once-over. "Edith Hepzebah Lyman, you look  
amazing."  
"Well, Joshua Solomon, I can say the same of you."  
He grimaced. "Okay, middle name truce?"  
Edith's grin widened. "Deal. So how are you? You really do look good. How's  
life in the White House? And when are we going to eat? I'm starving."  
Josh laughed. "I'm fine, life in the White House is great, and it's three  
o'clock in the morning, Edith. The only place open now is Eat 'N Park."  
"We'll just have to cook at your place, then."  
They'd been migrating towards the baggage claim. He stopped and looked at her.   
"Can you cook?"  
She bit her lip. "Eat? Yes. Cook? No. Can you?"  
Josh arched an eyebrow at her.  
"Point." Edith looked ready to admit defeat, then smiled mischievously. "Eat  
'N Park it is, then."  
"What?!"  
"Oh, come on, Josh. Did you really think I'd let years of childhood torture  
from you slide by that easily? I'm a Lyman. I'm trained to hold grudges." She  
pointed to a black suitcase. "That one's mine."

  


Josh delicately pulled the straw paper down to the tip of the straw, put the  
other end to his lips, and then blew really hard. The paper landed smack in the  
middle of Edith's forehead.  
"Oh, very mature," she drawled, then scooped the cherry off the top of her  
Chocolate Fudge Fantasy and flicked it at him. He ducked and it sailed over his  
head to bump against the window, leaving a small wet mark on the glass before  
gravity pulled it down into a fake plant pot.  
"Right, and you've grown up so well, Edith." He broke off another piece of his  
smiley cookie and stuffed it into his mouth. "It's a good thing none of the  
waitresses here are remotely interested in politics."  
"I'm surprised we haven't run into any drunk college kids."  
He snorted. "The Georgetown kids have too much money to waste any on Eat 'N  
Park." Looking down at his "salad", he added "And I don't blame them."  
"Spoiled brat."  
"Whatever. I still have that picture of you in fourth grade."  
"Oh, resorting to blackmail of your own family? D.C. really is getting to you  
isn't it?"  
"Eat your damn ice cream."  
Edith smiled and stuffed another spoonful of hot fudge into her mouth. "So,  
tell me about Donna."  
Josh blinked. "Huh?"  
She smiled again, that mischievous twinkle back in her eye. As annoying as she  
had been when they were children, he found that he'd really missed her. Well,  
he missed talking to anyone who'd known him before his Harvard days, but Edith  
wasn't really much like she used to be. Well, she was, but she was also a lot  
like...  
A lot like Joanie.  
"Josh?"  
"Huh?" he snapped back into the present.  
Edith had a concerned look on her face, and her hand was on his arm. "Are you  
okay?"  
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I just remembered something I need to get done in the  
morning, that's all." He took another sip of his coffee. "You were saying?"  
"We should probably go back, now. You look tired."  
He shrugged. "I'd be up anyway. I don't sleep well anymore."  
Edith looked like she wanted to pursue that subject, but she thankfully let it  
lie. "So, tell me about Donna," she said, catching him off guard again.  
This time he just stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about? And  
how do you know anything about Donna?"  
She smiled. "I don't. But your mom mentioned something on the phone about a  
woman named Donna."  
Josh rolled his eyes. "You know my mother, Edith. She imagines things."  
"So who's Donna?"  
He laughed. "Donnatella Moss. She's my assistant."  
Edith blinked. "'Donnatella'? I think that has Hepzebah and Solomon beat."  
"Yeah, well, the three of us are good examples of why you shouldn't let  
medicated mothers and nervous fathers name their children in the delivery room."  
"No kidding. So, what's she like?"  
"Why this sudden interest in my assistant?"  
Edith shrugged. "Your mom mentioned her on the phone."  
"So?"  
"So your mom mentioned her on the phone."  
"Was my mother born with a tag that read 'matchmaker'?" Josh shook his head.   
"Donna's...well, she's Donna."  
She snorted. "How very observant of you."  
He frowned thoughtfully for a minute, studying his smiley cookie with  
disinterest. What exactly was Donna like? "She's a good assistant. I mean,  
she's the only one who didn't leave within a week of me hiring her...but that  
could be because she was the one who came to me in the first place."  
"Someone actually came to you to be hired?"  
Josh waved a hand. "It was during the campaign, and she, well...she was looking  
for a place to start over and I-"  
"Took pity on her?"  
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "No. Y'know, I don't think it was  
ever pity. I don't really know why I hired her, except it just seemed right. I  
did need an assistant, and she seemed as competent as any."  
Edith was studying him. He shrugged again. "She's been a great assistant ever  
since then. Probably the only one who's ever been able to make heads or tails  
of the unorganized mass that is my schedule. Hell, I can't even understand my  
own schedule. And she's always there. But then we all are. If there's one  
constant about working in the West Wing it's that you don't have a personal  
life. Donna was probably solely responsible for keeping my office from falling  
into disaster this summer." He paused. "And she still was always there. In the  
hospital, when I..."  
"When you were recovering."  
"Yeah." He studied the cookie again. "She's-" He smiled, remembering Donna's  
words from the past weekend. "She's the closest thing I have to a best friend."  
"Sounds like she's a little more than just your assistant, Josh."  
"She is. She's my friend."  
"And?"  
Josh blinked. "'And'? There is no 'and'."  
She licked hot fudge from her spoon. "I heard an 'and'."  
"There is no 'and'."  
"Sure. Fine. Whatever you say."  
He sighed. "I got the tab."

"I told you I'd sleep on the couch."  
Edith took the blanket Josh held out for her and made a face. "Don't be  
ridiculous, Josh. You're the one who has to be up and at the White House in a  
few hours. Plus, it's your apartment. I'm fine on the couch." She adjusted  
her pajama pants. "I would've been fine in a hotel."  
"You're not racking up hotel bills in D.C. when I have an apartment, Edith.   
That's ridiculous. Do you know how expensive hotels here are?"  
She laughed. "It's not like I've sat on my ass for the past twenty years,  
Josh."  
"I know, I know, but lawyers don't always win every case, Edith. Not even the  
ones with the last name Lyman." He sat down in a chair and folded his arms as  
she spread the blanket over the couch.  
Edith froze and looked at him oddly. "I'm not a lawyer, Josh."  
He blinked and sat forward. "I thought-"  
"No, Josh. Who told you I was a lawyer?" She sat down and frowned at him.  
"Mom told me you were coming to work with the DA's office. I assumed that  
meant you were a lawyer."  
"Well, I am working with the DA's office."  
"But you're not a lawyer."  
"No."  
"Then what are you?"  
Edith looked at him steadily for a few moments before answering. "I'm a  
psychologist."  
A few minutes went by before Josh spoke. "Why did you come to DC?" he asked  
softly.  
"Not for what you're thinking, Josh. If I can help you, I will, but that's not  
what I came for. I specialize in Criminology." Her expression softened. "I  
didn't come here because your mom phoned me and was worried. I was coming here  
anyway."  
"But she did call you."  
"Yes. She's your mother, Josh."  
"Yeah." He stood and looked out the window, studiously avoiding having to look  
at the newly replaced pane he'd broken a few months earlier.  
Edith sighed and stood as well, coming to stand behind him. She placed a hand  
on his back. "Listen, I'm not going to make you tell me your feelings or ask  
you if you have nightmares or anything else. If you want to talk to me I can  
listen. I'm just here as your cousin, Josh, not your personal therapist."  
He turned around and ran a hand through his hair. "Right. I know that. It's  
just-"  
"Yeah." She said, and went back to constructing a makeshift bed on the couch.  
"I'm sorry, Edith."  
She smiled at him. "I know. Just as long as you remember that you're always  
wrong and I'm always right, we'll get along just fine."  
He laughed. "Whatever. So how'd you get into Criminology?"  
This time she really did frown at him. "I've been with the Bureau for the past  
ten years, Josh."  
"What bureau?"  
"The Federal Bureau of Investigation, idiot."  
"You're an FBI agent!"  
"Yes. I thought you would know that, you being in government and all."  
"You're forgetting that five minutes ago I thought you were a lawyer."  
"Oh, right." She plopped down on the couch, curling into a semi-ball and  
tucking another blanket under her chin. "So how did you not know all this  
stuff?"  
"I don't know. I haven't seen you since you moved to Michigan twenty-three  
years ago! And you didn't come to the funeral."  
She was silent for a few minutes before she finally spoke in muted tones.   
"Ever since Uncle Noah and Dad had that big fight, it was weird between them. I  
don't know what happened, and I really don't want to know, but I think it was  
something about my Mom. Uncle Noah still sent me a birthday card now and then,  
but never anything to Dad. And after Dad passed away, even the birthday cards  
stopped coming. And then Mom died, and I called. Aunt Sarah said she'd come if  
it weren't for your father."  
Most of the last had been spoken into her pillow. Josh sat down on the couch  
beside her. It took him a moment to formulate speech. "Edith, I never knew any  
of that was going on. I mean, I knew Dad and Uncle John had a fight, but then  
you guys moved, and I never heard from you."  
"Yeah, well, it was hard to adjust there, and I guess I just was trying to let  
go of everything from home so it wouldn't hurt as much. You know the logic of a  
thirteen-year-old."  
"Yeah. I'm so sorry, Edith."  
She looked at him. "It's okay, Josh. Not everything in the universe is your  
fault. Well, not that anyway."  
He laughed.  
She smiled. "Even regardless, I would've come to the funeral. Sarah did call  
me, which was very considerate of her. Your mom really is a wonderful person."  
"Yeah, I know."  
"I had a case, though. It was important."  
"Oh."  
She sat up at the sound of disappointment in his voice. Edith remembered how  
much Josh had worshipped his father. She laid a hand on his arm. "A  
twelve-year-old girl had been kidnapped. Her kidnapper was a middle-aged,  
seemingly nice man. Your average Joe type of guy. Except for the fact that he  
liked to kidnap young girls, lock them in his basement, and after repeated  
molesting, kill them."  
Josh stared at her. "I hope you got that bastard."  
"The day of the funeral."  
"Good."  
"Yeah." She pulled the blanket back up. "Go to bed, Josh."  
"Yeah."  
"Or I have a feeling your assistant will not be pleased."  
"Right. I'm going to bed, now." He stood and headed for his bedroom.  
"'Night, Josh."  
"'Night, Edith."


	4. Shelter From The Storm 4

 

"Josh."  
He turned around at the sound of someone saying his name. Edith was still  
vigorously debating some point with Sam and Toby. Well, more with Toby, since  
Sam seemed engrossed in a debate of his own with Ainsley Hayes, who � Josh had  
to admit � despite her being a Republican, looked stunning in her dark green  
silk dress.  
He found CJ standing before him. "It seems to be going extraordinarily well,  
don't you think?" she said, moving to stand beside him as they scanned the crowd  
now mingling for the post-dinner socializing and dancing.  
Josh smiled. "If that's a polite way of asking me to put down my champagne  
glass you can forget it."  
"Just be careful, please. The press has already gotten a whiff of this whole  
Kramer business, and they're out for blood. A drunk Deputy Chief of Staff at a  
State Dinner is not what I need to deal with right now."  
"Understood, sir," Josh intoned in mock formality. He laughed. "Relax, CJ."  
"Don't think I don't know that they're driving you up the wall."  
"Who? What?"  
"Oh, come on. Lord John Marbury, and his nephew? The nephew who seems quite  
taken with Donna?"  
"They're not bothering me. And he's not taken with her."  
She studied his face for an uncomfortable few minutes. "Right."  
"CJ?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Can we, y'know, not talk about this?"  
"Yeah. Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"  
"Why would I ask you to dance?"  
"Because I look stunning."  
He smiled at her. "Would it help to say that you always do?"  
She laughed. "Sure, and it would also help if you weren't slightly drunk."  
"I am not slightly drunk."  
"You have a delicate system."  
"Remind me to fire Donna first thing tomorrow."  
She snorted. "Right. But you should ask me to dance."  
"Why?"  
"Didn't I just say that I look stunning?'  
"Um, yeah." He took another liberal sip of champagne.  
"I won't always look stunning."  
"Is this some sort of early mid-life crisis?"  
CJ shrugged. "It's like that poem says, 'gather ye rosebuds while ye may'."  
Josh blinked at her. "What did you just say?"  
"I said �"  
"I know what you said."  
"Then why did you just ask me?"  
A slow smile spread on his face. "No reason. Claudia Jean, would you like to  
dance?"  
She seemed a little mystified, but she smiled back. He had to admit that she  
did look stunning. Sky blue and sleeveless, the gown made CJ look radiant. "Most  
certainly, Joshua Solomon."  
He felt too good to grimace. "I suppose Edith Hepzebah told you."  
"Hepzebah?" She echoed as she took his arm.  
"Now don't you just feel ordinary?"  
CJ tossed a glance over to where Edith and Toby had now progressed to the  
argument level of the debate. "I like her," CJ said, "She's a very strong  
person. Not everyone would want to throw in their lot with Toby."  
"Yeah, not unless they were suicidal or just stupid."  
"Or Sam."  
"Or any of the rest of the senior staff."  
"True," she conceded. "But that's 'cause we all know him for the sweet lovable  
man he really is."  
He looked at her for a few moments, and then they both dissolved into laughter.   
"Call Toby lovable again, CJ, and I think you may want to lock your office door  
for, oh, the next six or seven months."  
"Eight," she said looking back over at them again. Toby had that  
I'm-going-to-make-you-see-my-point-of-view-if-I-have-to-drag-you-by-the-nose  
look. And Edith...Edith had a look that Josh knew without even looking in a  
mirror that he used. It was the traditional  
I'm-a-Lyman-so-you-can-just-kiss-my-ass-because-you-know-that-I'm-right look.   
"You should talk to Leo about getting her hired to the White House Counsel. We  
could use a lawyer that has enough guts to look Toby square in the face and tell  
him he's wrong."  
"She's not a lawyer," Josh responded.  
"I thought you said she was a lawyer." CJ's gaze returned to Josh.  
"That's because I thought she was."  
"Want to explain that one?"  
"Edith's actually a psychologist. My mother had told me on the phone that she  
was making a trip to DC to work with the DA's office here. I guess she didn't  
want to tell me because she thought I would freak out or shut Edith out because  
she was a shrink."  
"I thought you said she went to law school."  
"She did. For about a year. She didn't tell me she dropped out and went into  
psychology instead because she assumed I already knew."  
"But you didn't."  
Josh sighed. "Long story, and I don't really feel like delving into family  
history right now."  
"Fine, but why is she working with the DA's office if she's not a lawyer?"  
"'Cause her specialty is violent and criminal behavior and she's a Special  
Agent with the FBI. She won't tell me exactly what's up, but it has something  
to do with some kind of murder case she's working on."  
"Oh." CJ shrugged. "Well, in that case, don't talk to Leo about getting her  
hired to the White House Counsel."  
"Ya think?"  
The steps of the waltz brought them a little to close to Dr. Marbury and Donna  
than Josh would've really cared for. He didn't really want to see Donna smile  
at someone else right now, and he certainly didn't want to hear her laugh. And  
he certainly didn't give a damn that it was childish and selfish of him to feel  
that way.  
"Yeah," CJ said, not really paying attention as she studied something over his  
shoulder. "So we have a professional on our side, now, which is good. We can  
back up our stance without looking like we're just trying to do the good liberal  
Democrat thing."  
"Huh?"  
"Boy, you really are stupid, aren't you? Please remove your head from your ass  
for a few minutes."  
"What?"  
CJ rolled her eyes. "Okay, quite staring at Donna and listen."  
"What makes you think I was staring at Donna?"  
"Because you were."  
"Can we not talk about this?"  
"Of course. Because we weren't talking about it in the first place."  
"What were we talking about?"  
"Kramer."  
This time he definitely grimaced. "Yeah. We do have Dr. Marbury on our side,  
which is good, and Donna says he's willing to back us up if we need him."  
"We need him."  
"Maybe."  
"Josh-"  
"Listen, CJ, Kramer's not the big problem."  
"Yeah, yeah. I know, but-"  
"The Senate Majority leader is expecting us to rip Kramer to shreds."  
She stared at him. "So we're not going to?"  
"Try to keep your voice down. We're in the middle of a State Dinner, remember?   
Do you really want Nelson Mandela to see you pitch a fit?"  
"Josh." That was a tone of voice he definitely never wanted to hear CJ direct  
at him again.  
"There's a senior staff Monday morning, and Leo and I will give the details  
then."  
"Give me the brief overview. I don't like surprises."  
He sighed. "Did I mention yet that you look stunning?"  
"Brief overview, Josh."  
"We're going to take him out the quiet way."  
"What exactly is the quiet way?"  
"I'll tell you about it tomorrow."  
"Josh," she said, exasperated.  
"It's technically detail, CJ."  
She stared at him. "Sometimes I really hate you."  
"I know." He smiled. "But you look stunning."

  


"Okay, where's the beer?"  
Josh laughed and tossed his tuxedo jacket on the living room chair while he  
tugged at his bow tie. Edith was collapsed on the couch, badly wrinkling the  
dark blue gown she wore. "I think there's some Rolling Rock left in the  
fridge." He tossed the bow tie on top of the jacket and rolled up the sleeves  
of his shirt.  
"Good. Grab me one."  
"I'm sorry, did I miss the part where I suddenly became your servant."  
"Go get me a goddamn beer before I beat the living shit out of you."  
"Okay."  
"And take the cap off for me, too!" she called as he disappeared into the  
kitchen.  
Edith debated whether or not to move, then decided against it. "So was I  
charming, or what?" she called again.  
"As charming as possible," Josh said as he reappeared with two bottles in his  
hands. He handed one to her. "You looked great tonight, Edith. You reminded  
me of that picture of Grandma when she was young."  
"The one that hung in their dinning room?"  
"Yeah."  
Edith smiled. "Thank you, Josh. I think that is quite possibly the most  
wonderful compliment I've ever received."  
"Just drink your beer," he said with a smirk.  
"I will." And with that she took a long swig that Josh felt must've been at  
least half the bottle.  
He stared at the bottle in his own hands, took a swig, and then continued to  
study it. "So," he ventured, "your gun's in the small brown suitcase, right?"  
She blinked. "What?"  
"I said-"  
"I know what you said."  
"Then why did you ask me?"  
Edith leaned forward with a frown. "What makes you think I have my gun with  
me, and that I keep it in my small brown suitcase?"  
"You're an FBI agent, Edith. You're a psychologist who specializes in violent  
criminal behavior and investigates cases in a manner that leads me to believe  
you are or once was a field agent, and you expect me to believe that you don't  
have a gun?"  
"And you just guessed about the small brown suitcase? Or was that another piece  
of brilliant Joshua Lyman deducting?"  
"I noticed that you studiously avoided looking at that case whenever I'm in the  
same room, and I noticed that you move it with particular care."  
"What makes you so sure that I'm not currently diagnosing you in my head as a  
paranoia freak?"  
"Because you wouldn't use those terms, you know I'm right, and you wouldn't lie  
to me."  
Edith sighed. "Yeah, my gun's in the small brown suitcase."  
"Yeah." He sat down on the couch beside her.  
She placed a hand on his shoulder, but didn't say anything. They sat in  
silence for what seemed like a long time. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable,  
it was just that there was nothing to be said. Edith had a gun, the gun was in  
the suitcase, and the suitcase was in the corner of Josh's living room in Josh's  
apartment.  
Finally Edith sat forward. "I know it sounds corny as hell, but you're a  
Lyman, Josh, and don't ever forget that."  
He rubbed his temples. "What exactly does that mean?"  
"Jacob Mendel Lyman was starved, tortured, degraded, beaten, and even shot by  
the Nazis in Birkenau. Do you ever remember one day � one day, Josh � when he  
didn't laugh?"  
Josh was silent.  
"Do you ever remember our grandfather as a beaten man?"  
He was still silent.  
"You don't think the Holocaust was enough to give a person Post-Traumatic  
Stress Disorder?"  
This time he blinked and turned his head to look at her. "How'd you know I  
have PTSD? I sure as hell didn't tell Mom."  
"Psychologist, remember? Before I specialized, I had the basics training. No  
one had to tell me, Josh. You can hide it from some people, but not from me, and  
certainly not from anyone else who really knows you."  
"And you think Granddad suffered from it was well?"  
"I don't think there's any way to ever forget something like that once it  
happens, Josh."  
He rearranged his position on the couch so he was completely facing her as  
something hit him. "Granddad was shot?"  
"Yeah."  
"Did he tell you that? I mean, 'cause he never told me. I don't think Dad  
knew, either."  
"I read his FBI file."  
"Our grandfather has an FBI file?"  
"Josh, just about everyone has an FBI file."  
"Oh. But-"  
Edith held up a hand, and tried to fight a smile. The energy had seemed to  
return to Josh full force along with his curiosity. "In a minute, okay?"  
"Why?"  
She laughed at him. "Josh, we're both still in our getup from the Dinner. I  
want to change into my pajamas, and you ought to get into something more  
comfortable, too. I can already tell this'll be a long night."  
"Is a long night bad?"  
She laughed again. "No, a long night is good, but I'm not going to sit around  
and discuss family history while in the only really good dress I own, okay?"  
"Okay."  
"Okay." A thought struck her then. "I'm going to grab a quick shower, too."  
"Yeah, you do reek."  
"That's the cousin I know and love."

Around fifteen minutes later, Edith emerged from the bathroom clad in her  
pajamas to find a tent pitched in the middle of Josh's living room. Not a real  
tent, but one constructed of chairs, tables, blankets, sheets, pillows, and � in  
a few creative junctions � duct tape. Edith just stared. It was exactly what  
they used to do in the middle of Josh's old room in the Hartford house.  
Edith carefully lifted the edge of the makeshift doorway and peered inside. In  
the middle of his creation, clad in a Harvard t-shirt and sweat pants,  
surrounded more pillows and blankets with a flashlight in his hands, was Josh.  
"Oh. My. God."  
"I figured if we were going to do the whole family thing, we needed to do it  
right." He grinned and gestured with the flashlight to the contraption around  
him. "Remember when me, you, and Joanie used to do this? When you came to stay  
with us during July every summer? I don't think we took it down for the entire  
month."  
Edith, who at that point was still staring, dissolved into absolute gut-busting  
laughter.  
"You're mocking me."  
Edith gasped for breath. "No...no...I think...it's a...great...idea." More laughter.  
"You're still mocking me."  
Finally the laughter subsided, and Edith wiped a tear from her eyes. "No,  
honestly, this is wonderful, Josh. You just took me by complete and utter  
surprise, that's all." She studied the tent for a moment then shared his  
earlier grin. "This kicks ass, Josh."  
"I always kick ass."  
"Where'd you get all the blankets? Because you can't expect me to believe that  
you actually have enough common sense to buy blankets for yourself."  
"Mom has this really weird paranoid fear that I'm going to freeze to death in  
my own apartment because I'll forget to turn the heat on."  
Edith shrugged. "She knows you."  
Josh was about to say something when there was a knock on the door. "Who the  
hell is that?"  
Edith stood and smiled. "It's a surprise. But we need a third flashlight."  
"What are you talking about?"  
She let the sheet door drop as she stood to answer the door. "Be right back."  
Josh sat still for a few moments, not exactly knowing what to think. Who the  
hell had Edith invited over? 

 


	5. Shelter From The Storm 5

 

I'd like to thank you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed it. Please send me  
feedback, as I'd like to know whether I suck or not. Also, please note that the  
disclaimers for all the parts are the same as for Part One. I don't own them,  
I'm not getting anything out of them, and imitation is the sincerest form of  
flattery. Also, I really am not any sort of expert at all on WWII history, I  
don't know much about Birkenau or what happened, so if I make any glaring  
mistakes, I apologize. Again, send feedback Thanks.

"Hey, Edith. I brought the ice cream you asked for."  
Josh nearly choked. He scrambled out of the tent. "Donna?!"  
And indeed Donnatella Moss was standing beside Edith at the door, which was  
swinging closed. She was staring at the tent and holding an economy-sized tub  
of chocolate double-fudge ice cream. "Josh? Is that a...tent...in the middle of  
your living room?"  
He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah."  
She nodded. "Just wanted to make sure."  
"Donna, what are you doing here?"  
"I called her," Edith said. "We got a chance to talk at the Dinner while you  
were talking to Mr. McGarry and the President. We became instant friends."  
"Instant friends."  
"Yeah."  
"So you called her over?"  
"Yeah."  
"Okay."  
"Okay?"  
"Yeah."  
Donna looked at them both and shook her head. "So, um, the ice cream's  
melting."  
"I'll go get spoons and a flashlight for Donna," Edith said, moving towards the  
kitchen.  
"Yeah," Josh said, not really paying attention. He was staring at Donna, who  
stood in front of him in a coat, pajama pants, and a t-shirt, holding a tub of  
ice cream, and who was looking at him with that expression... Josh stepped forward  
and took the ice cream carton out of her hands and set it on the table next to  
the door.  
"That might leave a watermark."  
"I don't care." Donna gave him a puzzled look. He smiled. And was fully  
aware that he looked like a big grinning idiot.  
He didn't quite know how, but in the next minute he had his arms around her and  
was hugging her close. When he felt Donna's arms tighten around his shoulders  
as she hugged him back, he completely forgot about Edith in the kitchen, the  
tent in the living room, and just about everything else.  
"So are you two going to stand there hugging all night or can we get around to  
eating the ice cream and camping out like little kids?"  
They both jumped at Edith's voice. She stood against a wall near the kitchen  
with her arms crossed, holding three spoons in her left hand. Donna started  
laughing, and Josh joined in. The whole situation was probably the most  
ridiculous of his entire life. He was surprised to find that it was that  
ridiculousness that he had missed. From the day he set his mind on politics  
he'd realized that it was a serious occupation, though rewarding in its own  
ways. But what good was event the most rewarding occupation if you couldn't  
have fun once in a while?  
Josh picked up the ice cream and headed back to the tent with Edith and Donna  
in tow. They settled into a small circle with Donna sharing Josh's flashlight  
because Edith couldn't find another. "Donna, if so much as a whisper of this  
gets anywhere near anyone else at the office, you are so fired."  
"You should know by now that I am completely impervious to that threat, and  
besides, I can keep a confidence."  
"Yeah, which is exactly how everyone knows I have a sensitive system."  
"That was for your own benefit."  
Edith smirked. "You have a sensitive system?"  
"Do I need to bring out the middle names?"  
She handed them their spoons. "No, no, hint taken."  
Josh took a scoop. "So what happened to Dr. Ethan Marbury, Donna?"  
She shrugged. "Nothing. He took me home, said goodnight, and then went back  
to his hotel."  
Edith snorted. "Oh, come on, Donna. Don't torture the poor man. Come clean."  
Josh blinked at them. "Would someone please...?"  
Donna smiled and took another bite of ice cream. "Let's just say I wasn't  
exactly his type."  
Edith snickered.  
"You weren't his type?" Josh echoed.  
"Nope," Donna said, "but you are."  
Edith busted into out right laughter.  
Josh stared, the ice cream forgotten on his spoon. "Hang on, you mean to tell  
me that he's �"  
"Yep."  
"Oh."  
Edith continued to laugh.  
"Does Lord Marbury know?"  
Donna rolled her eyes. "Of course not! Or if he does, he pretends not to."  
"Right," Josh said, "hint taken." He looked at Edith. "How the hell did you  
know?"  
"I know him."  
"You know him?"  
"Well," Edith amended, "not personally, but the friend I stayed with in Cape  
Town did. He was involved with her cousin Daniel."  
"Ah."  
"But," Donna said, "he did tell me that under different circumstances he might  
have been in great danger of falling in love with me."  
Josh smiled. "I wouldn't blame him."  
Donna, who'd been expecting the usual sarcasm, stared. "Really?"  
"Yeah," he smirked, "you're a very devious person, Donna Moss."  
"I should so fling ice cream at you right now, but I want a raise."  
"And the chances of that happening are on the far side of never."  
She took another spoonful. "It's not if you ever want to find a file you need  
again."  
Josh ignored her and looked at Edith. "So tell me about Granddad."  
"Well," she started, and then noticed Donna's curious expression. "Did you  
ever tell Donna about him?"  
Josh frowned and looked at Donna, who shrugged. "Guess not."  
"Our grandfather, Jacob Lyman, was a Holocaust survivor, Donna," Edith  
explained. "He was liberated from Birkenau by American troops."  
"Wow," Donna said.  
"Yeah," Josh said. "And apparently he got shot while inside the concentration  
camp, which is part of the story he never told us. Edith found out from his FBI  
file."  
"He has an FBI file?"  
"Who doesn't?"  
"Well," Edith began again, "I did found out he'd once received a gunshot wound  
from the file, but the rest was a hunch I acted on. I went and tracked down any  
survivors of Birkenau and their families living in the US that I could find."   
She looked up and smiled. "Nearly all of them remembered a Jacob Lyman who, on  
the very morning of the day of the liberation of Birkenau, risked his life to  
save a woman by the name of Anne Goodman."  
Josh gaped at her. "That's..."  
Edith nodded. "Our grandmother. She died before either of us were born," she  
explained to Donna.  
"What..." Josh swallowed. "What happened?"  
"The Nazis were slaughtering people right and left; disposing of the evidence."  
There was an undertone of anger to her voice that Josh completely understood.   
"She'd been rounded up with some of the other women, but was at the end of the  
line near a building, according to one woman I spoke to. The woman, Ruth  
Villstein, said that he just appeared out of nowhere, grabbed the hat off a Nazi  
soldier and just took off running.  
Apparently, the sounds of the American troops drawing closer had inspired some  
resistance inside before they even arrived. While the three soldiers who were  
supposed to dispatch the small group of women were busy chasing down Granddad,  
ten other men appeared, and shuffled off the women. Granddad took a shot that  
missed his heart by four centimeters and didn't do any serious damage, according  
to the scar tissue the coroner found. The other ten men managed to catch up to  
the three Nazis and...well, I don't know what exactly happened, but I'm sure the  
Americans must've showed up by then, because he had to have had medical  
attention."  
Josh couldn't find any words to say exactly what he was thinking. He didn't  
even exactly know what he was thinking, except for the fact that he'd never  
really realized the full extent of the wonderful person that was his  
grandfather. "When did you find this out?" he managed.  
"Last year. No, Josh, I don't know if Uncle Noah ever knew or not." Now there  
was just a bit of sadness to her voice.  
Donna put her arm around his shoulders. She looked at Edith. "That has to be  
the most incredible story I've ever heard, Edith." She sounded as if she were  
close to tears. "I don't think I'll ever cease to be amazed by the Lyman  
family."  
Edith smiled at her. Josh was frowning as he remembered something Edith had  
said. "Did you say that the bullet missed his heart by four centimeters?" he  
asked. Donna gasped as she realized it, too.  
"Yeah," she said, "that's what the coroner said in his report according to the  
scar tissue he found." Edith looked at both of them. "Why?"  
"The...bullet that...Well, let's just say that four centimeters and I'd be dead."   
He felt Donna's arm tighten around his shoulder, and he reached up and squeezed  
her hand reassuringly.  
Edith stared. "That's...wow...I...damn, Josh." She moved the ice cream aside,  
leaned over, and hugged him. She pulled back, and Josh saw that her cheek was  
slightly wet. He looked over and Donna's was, as well.  
"Okay, look, I don't think I can handle two crying women. Isn't chocolate  
supposed to make you people happy?"  
They laughed and started in on the ice cream again, ignoring the fact that a  
good bit of it had already melted. Donna and Josh attempted to explain a normal  
day in the West Wing in response to a question from Edith, which led to a  
political discussion, which eventually led elsewhere. Outside, a bit of early  
thunder sounded, and rain began to fall. Lightning illuminated the windows from  
time to time, but inside, in the ridiculous living room makeshift tent, in each  
other's company, they had shelter from the storm. 

THE END


End file.
